


Somewhere Only We Know

by Dirty_Corza



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the gang leaves Kirkwall, Hawke leaves her lover, Anders, in the care of Fenris.</p><p>Fenris decides pretending to be in a relationship with the mage is the best way to keep them both safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calligraphypenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calligraphypenn/gifts).



“Oh by the Maker.”

Fenris had been with Hawke when the explosion rocked the city. He hadn't known what it was about, but she seemed to, the color in her face draining as she took him aside.

“Fenris, I need you to promise me something.”

“What do you need?”

She gave a small laugh at that, though her smile didn't last long as she met his questioning gaze. “I need you to take care of Anders. No matter what happens here, get him out, get him safe, for me. Take him- take him to Ferelden. I'll find you there. But he- he needs to be kept safe, you understand?”

Fenris nodded, “I will keep him safe,” he said, his voice strained with the unsaid “for you” that danced on the tip of his tongue. When she breathed out a sigh of relief, giving him a smile that reminded him of that night, years before, he couldn't help giving her a sad smile in return.

Later, he would curse her, curse the fact she had known what the mage had done -or at least suspected- and made him promise without giving him a warning. Instead, he was struck dumb by the mage's confession, helpless to do anything but give Hawke a soft smile when she asked him to stay and fight by their side for mage freedom. “I did promise, didn't I?” was all he managed to say. 

\- - -

After the battle, Hawke was gone. She'd stopped to press a soft kiss to Anders' lips, to Fenris' cheek, and then she was following Isabela to her ship and leaving the men staring after her. 

“What-” the confusion was clear in Anders voice, the heartbreak written all too clearly on his face. 

Fenris took a deep breath, looking away from the mage, telling himself it was because they were still in danger, not that the look on Anders' face made his heart ache with bittersweet memories. That it didn't make him want to bring the mage into his arms like he hadn't done with her so many years ago. “We're going to Ferelden. Hawke-” his voice caught, and he couldn't help but look to the mage, to keep an eye on his reaction as he spoke. “Hawke will find us there. But we need to get moving.”

“We?”

“I made a promise. You will be protected, mage.”

“Oh.”

There was something in the way Anders looked at him then that made Fenris eager to get moving. The mage had too much sympathy in his eyes, as if all it took was that one sentence and Fenris' heart was bared before him. “Yes, well, we must be going. We'll need to find our own ship to take across the sea.”

\- - -

It had started on the boat, Fenris securing Anders' passage on the ship with a whispered word to the captain that ended with them sharing a private cabin. It had been small and cramped, but Anders had been grateful for the privacy. When Fenris insisted he stay there the entire trip, Anders hadn't had the strength or will to argue. All the energy that had been driving him up to the moment he blew up the chantry was gone.

After the time in the ship, Anders had found himself led by a strong, gentle hand pressed to the small of his back, a soft smile on the ship captain's face as they were waved off. “You were right, it looks like your husband is shit at ship travel. You boys take care, now.”

Fenris had nodded, keeping Anders close to him as the mage tried not to gape at him. He didn't manage for long, though, turning to Fenris as soon as they were far away not to be seen. “Husband? Fenris, what-”

“Shh.” Fenris had replied, soft fingers pressing against Anders' lips. “It was a way to get us a private room. And it turns out to have other uses as well.” Anders hadn't been able to stop the look on confusion on his face at that. “A newly wed mixed couple, looking for a quiet place to settle down. The captain was helpful, passed along a few names, people we can go to for help. People that won't ask questions.”

“People that will expect a couple, Fenris, not, not-” Anders wasn't able to finish before Fenris was pressed against him, his breath hot against the mage's ear.

“What would you have me do, mage? I made her a promise. And short of calling upon your warden connections, playing on my being an elf and you my lover is the best we can hope for to stay together.”

Anders breath left him in a rush, his hands steadying himself on Fenris' shoulders. Just to steady himself against the sea legs, he told himself. It didn't have anything to do with the way his chest ached at the reminder of a promise and another strong body he used to hold close. “I-I guess, when you put it like that, it makes sense.”

Fenris gave a stiff nod as he pulled back, easily guiding Anders into the position they'd been in before: Fenris' firm touch at the small of his back to lead him. “Now, shall we be on our way, husband?”

Anders gave his own slow nod in return, his voice caught in his throat.

The captain's contact had proven true, the two men finding themselves in a comfortable, if small, apartment in Denerim's alienage. Fenris had found work for himself, hard labor, something with few questions. Anders had expected to be left with nothing to do, what with the promise Fenris had weaseled out of him that he wasn't to leave the apartment without the elf accompanying him. The first week had found him restless, Justice simmering in blue cracks across his skin during the hours at home alone. He hadn't known what to do with himself.

Fenris had intervened even then, a bag of herbs slung over his shoulder when he came home from work one day, along with their groceries.

“What's all this?” Anders had asked, before opening the bag to find it stuffed with elfroot. 

“I mentioned that my husband knew herbs, that he had helped stock a clinic before we- before we ran away together. There's a shopkeeper here in the alienage. She said she'd be grateful for anything you could make, even though those aren't the best ingredients. I- You need something, to be of use.” 

It wasn't a question, the way Fenris said it, but Anders still answered with a nod. “Thank you,” he had whispered, Justice sitting stunned in the back of his mind that the elf understood a little of how unjust it was for Anders not to make use of his talents. He'd almost missed the flush on Fenris' ears, the hurried way the elf busied himself with putting the food away in their small kitchen.

“Well, maybe I won't have to work as hard, with my husband being useful.”

Anders found himself smiling at that, “That would be nice. It's-” his own face flushed as he dug into the bag of herbs, desperate to do anything to keep from looking at Fenris, to see if the elf was looking back at him. “It's too quiet here, when you aren't around.” 

\- - -

Fenris hadn't expected life in the alienage to be so comfortable. He kept his head down when he was out in the main city, but among the elves, there was no feeling of being watched, being examined. After a few months of work, he even had friends, people who asked him about his husband, who praised the potions Anders had put together for the shop. 

He hadn't known how to deal with it at first. So many questions about a man he hadn't even considered a friend before- and after, Fenris was somehow all he had. Anders didn't even seem to mind that he was at home so much, that Fenris didn't trust Justice out on his own. This relationship was nothing like Fenris had thought it would be when he agreed to keep an eye on the mage. He had imagined a constant battle to keep the abomination from trying to blow up another chantry. What he got, however, was a timid man who seemed to have lost all his fight with the explosion, with saying goodbye to a lover.

If Fenris was honest with himself, he hadn't expected to enjoy living with Anders. If he was brutally honest, he'd admit he enjoyed the way “husband” rolled off his tongue far more than the way “mage” or “abomination” did when he spoke about the man he lived with. He couldn't even say when that familiarity had started.

It might have been when he was asked how he had met his husband, and he found the only way he could tell the story without revealing too much was “He helped save my life.”

Perhaps it was when Danynne, the shopkeeper had stopped him, looking at the basket of neatly filled vials, asking if his husband was sure she didn't need to pay him more, and Fenris thought back to the darktown clinic and shook his head. “He likes knowing he's made a difference for someone.”

Or maybe it had just came over him gradually, with shared meals and sleeping mats lying next to each other and the little smiles that would sometimes light up Anders face, leaving Fenris at a loss for words.

However it came about, when the shopkeeper asked for him to bring his husband over for dinner, he found himself promising to ask, to see if his husband would be willing to. He also found himself fingering a simple scarf, in dark teal, just long enough to tie around his wrist. Later, he would tie it in place, ignoring the thoughts creeping up on him, thoughts about the red scarf he was replacing and what it meant.

“Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night?” Fenris asked Anders later as they sat down for their evening meal. 

“Dinner?” Anders asked, confusion clear on his face.

Fenris felt the tips of his ears growing warm. “Danynne, she invited us over for a meal. She wants to meet my reclusive husband.”

Anders laughed, the sound bright in Fenris' ears, “Well then, your reclusive husband should make an appearance. If you'd like, that is.”

Fenris nodded, glancing away from Anders' amber eyes. There was real happiness in them, happiness Fenris hadn't seen since- hadn't seen in a very long time. “It would probably be best to introduce someone to my husband, people keep on teasing that you don't actually exist.”

“And you actually want to introduce me? You really are set on selling this marriage, aren't you?”

Fenris could only nod in reply, his throat tight. Anders' tone had been teasing, but the mage's words rang true in the elf's ears. He knew the dangers of getting too close to Anders. One day Hawke would send word, would find them, and then his heart would be broken all over again.

\- - -

“That was... Nice.” Anders face flushed as he softly spoke. His tone was barely above a whisper, some part of him worried that anything louder would break the spell of the wonderful night. Dinner had been more than just the two men and Danynne. The woman, it seemed, had spread the word that Fenris' husband was being socialized and it had turned into a potluck with most of the community there. 

“It was, wasn't it?” Fenris spoke almost as softly as Anders, and the mage shivered in response. Fenris' grip on his waist tightened a bit at that, pulling the taller man closer to his side. “Danynne wants us to come more often, she said they do these dinners once a month with whoever can come.”

“That sounds lovely.” Anders couldn't keep the wistfulness out of his voice. He hadn't realized how much he missed people, socializing, children. It seemed almost perfect. Even Justice had found the night enlightening, though now Anders fingers itched with the urge to write a new manifesto. That could wait, though, right now he was basking in the warmth Fenris was sharing with him.

“It does, doesn't it?” There was something in the way Fenris spoke that made Anders pause, pulling away from him and turning to look at his companion.

“What-” Anders' voice caught as he looked Fenris over. There was something like wistfulness in his eyes, and his wrist- Anders had to swallow roughly when he saw the dark fabric tied there. For so long it had been a splash of red, a reminder to Anders of why Fenris had done this for him at all. A reminder of one of the few things they shared: a love for Hawke. It had been replaced, though, and that caused a strange sensation in Anders gut that he didn't want to be able to place. Fenris had found someone new, and it the thought shouldn't hurt Anders so much to think about. He had been in love with Hawke, hadn't he? And this relationship was just protection until the woman thought it was safe enough to find them. “You found someone new?” he had to fight to keep his voice steady, unable to look away from the teal fabric. 

“I-I have, yes.” Fenris' voice sounded almost hollow in Anders ears.

“You know, if you want to socialize with your friends, you don't need to bring your husband along. You can go out and enjoy yourself without me tagging along.” Anders finally looked away, glad to see the light above their apartment door. He didn't look back at Fenris as he walked ahead, trying not to let his heartbreak show on his face.

\- - -

Fenris watched Anders walk away, his stomach tied in a knot, his fingers gripping tightly to the new band of fabric around his wrist. His throat was caught on the words he wanted to say, the protest that the potluck wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable without the mage there, that the one he had found wasn't another elf, but, rather, the man he was supposedly married to.

\- - -

“Andraste's tits, Fenris. What's all this?”

Fenris felt his cheeks heat as he turned to face Anders. “A gift. An appology. A-a peace offering.”

Anders stared, mouth agape. “A peace offering? A bound journal – not just sheaves of paper – and quills and ink. Even I know all this isn't cheap.”

“You-” Fenris sighed, “You haven't been sleeping well. I can hear you pacing, and it feels like Justice is becoming more active too. Back in Kirkwall, nights like that were why you wrote the manifesto, were they not? If I cannot help you rest, well, this is the least I can do.”

There was silence from the mage as he looked from the parcels in his hands back to the man who had bought them for him. “You- you want to help me rest?”

Fenris huffed, only meeting Anders' eyes for a moment. “I don't want to see you wasting away while in my care. You might find this hard to believe, mage, but I do not despise you.”

“I-” Anders' voice faltered as he replied, “I don't think I ever thought you did... I just never thought-”

“Never thought I cared? Well, you can see that is not the case. I care about you. We would not have made it this long if I did not.”

Silence followed, with Anders and Fenris staring at each other. Anders' eyes were wide, shocked, Fenris thought. And Fenris was struggling with the urge to tug at the band of fabric around his wrist. 

“Thank you.” Anders voice was soft, and Fenris found himself giving a small smile in response.

“Well, what else could I be expected to do for my husband?” He didn't wait to see how the mage responded. Instead, he turned to leave, only pausing a moment at the door. “I- I will be back, mage.” With that, Fenris left the house. He had no plan of where to go, he just knew he couldn't stay in their home any longer. He hadn't meant to confess, when he bought the gift for Anders. He had hoped it would be a suitable apology for the pain he hadn't meant to cause last month after the potluck. He had hoped to see the man smile again, and because of something Fenris had done.

Somehow, though, he had bared his heart, and it was difficult to tell what he hoped would happen because of it. Did he want Anders to return his affections? To meet him at the door with a kiss, with no thought of the woman they had both left behind? Did he hope Anders would pretend that had never happened? To find him sitting and writing, cracks of blue illuminating the page? 

Fenris ducked into a dark alley, stepping into a shallow doorway as rain began to fall. He wasn't sure what he hoped for, when he returned home, but he knew the one possible outcome that kept him from turning back now. He simply couldn't take it if Hawke was brought up when he returned. She had walked away from them both, and he was finding himself increasingly afraid that when she came for them, Anders would go back to her and Fenris would find himself alone and abandoned once more.

\- - - 

Anders stared at the door for a long moment, stunned, heart beating frantically in his chest. That had't been a slip of the tongue, a simple substitution of “husband” for “mage”. There had been a warmth in Fenris' tone he hadn't been expecting. Fenris had said “my husband” and he had confessed to caring what happened to him, with no mention of Hawke.

Hawke. Anders felt the warmth in his chest turn cold and slide down to his stomach at the thought of her. It was almost a year now, since they had left Kirkwall, since all this had started. A year of slowly building wedded bliss, without all the hard passion that had defined his relationship with the champion. Somehow, with Hawke, he had never reached domesticity. Perhaps it had been because of Justice, because of The Plan that had kept growing and turning in the back of his mind. Or perhaps it was simply because Hawke had been good at bringing out the passion in him, but when he talked about more she always seemed to lose interest.

He took a deep, shaking breath, holding the journal close to his chest. He needed time to think, time to figure out what to say when Fenris returned. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, subtle, but insistent. Slowly, Anders set down his gifts, reaching for his staff. No one in the alienage would be here this late at night. Fear pooled in Anders' stomach. The timing- had someone been watching, waiting for Fenris to leave? Was there a Templar outside that door, about to try and exact the justice Hawke had denied them a year ago?

“Anders? Fenris? Andraste's tits, Isabela, are you sure this is the right place?”

The voice on the other side of the door was familiar in the worst way. Anders gripped his staff tightly, his body unwilling to move at the sound of his old lover's voice scant feet away.

“Yes, darling, I'm sure this is the right place. I'm good at getting information out of people, you know. And the tattooed elf with the human companion was easy to find. Come on, the boys won't mind if we make ourselves at home while they're out.” 

“Just wait inside?”

There was a laugh at that, the thump of two bodies meeting a wooden wall. “Well, maybe we can find a way to pass the time...”

That was as much of the conversation as Anders could bear to hear. With a deep breath, stealing his face into a mask of calmer emotions, he stepped to the door, slowly opening it. “Hawke. Isabela.” It was all he could do to keep his voice even at the sight of them. The two women were pressed close together, far too close for mere companions. Anders was surprised at how much it hurt, seeing them like that, when just minutes before he had been considering confessing to Fenris. “Come in.”

“Anders!” Hawke's face lit up in a smile when she saw him, a smile he struggled to return. “Finally, Maker's breath it's been ages, hasn't it?” She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as she entered, one hand caressing his cheek while the other tugged Isabella in after.

“It-” he swallowed tightly, his voice catching on the words. “It has been a while. Nearly a year now, isn't it?”

“A year next week! Now, where's Broody?” Hawke asked, looking around the small apartment. “He didn't decide tonight was the night he finally had enough of you, did he?”

“He's out.” Anders reply was stiff. He took his time closing the door, not daring to turn to the woman yet, not trusting his face to hide his reactions. “He'll be back, soon.”

“Of course he will be.” It was Isabela speaking this time, something soft in her voice that made Anders wonder if she had seen something on his face that Hawke had missed. “And we'll just wait here for him, and then we can make plans. It should be safe now, after all. Safe to travel all together, a big happy family, just like we used to be, right?”

\- - -

Fenris slowed as he walked up to the door of the apartment. There were voices inside, more than just Anders and Justice. A whole conversation, with voices that made him tense, as if they were dangerous, as if- There was a laugh as he came up to the door. A familiar laugh, followed by a chuckle he knew only too well. Isabela and Hawke. 

Silence fell when he opened the door, three faces turning to look at him. Fenris only had eyes for one, though, his gaze immediately falling upon Anders. The look he found made his breath catch, made his heart stop, just for a moment. It had been months since he'd last seen that look on Anders' face, so many months it was nearly a year gone, now. The last time he had seen that despairing look had been the first time he wanted to pull the mage into his arms, but he couldn't. Even now, as much as he wanted to rush to Anders' side, to make the hurt go away, he knew he couldn't, he shouldn't. Not with Hawke and Isabela there.

Slowly, the door shut behind him, the thump of it closing loud in the silence none of the occupants of the room had broken.

“You found us.” Fenris' voice sounded hollow to his own ears, bitter in a way he hadn't meant to let show. This was what was supposed to happen, this had been the plan all along, and yet he couldn't help but wish it hadn't.

“We did,” Hawke answered, a grin on her face. “Not that you made it easy. I mean, I expected to be looking for signs of a violent elf and his poor, abused companion. And we ended up following the trail of a devoted elf and his reclusive husband. I mean, had I known you could pretend to like the man, I would have picked up on the rumors of the alienage having a new potion maker a lot sooner.”

Fenris bristled at the words, and even more at the way Anders flinched when they were said. “It turns out I can't pretend to like him,” he replied, cold, biting fury teasing the edges of his tone, venom hinting at the edges of the word pretend. “But apparently no one could tell that I actually liked him, not even you when you put him into my care. If this is so surprising, why did you ask me, of all of us, to look after him?”

“Well, I-” Hawke started to explain, her voice falling and the grin on her face fading as she looked back and forth between the two men. “I needed someone who could keep Justice in line, didn't I? Someone who could protect him from the worst of himself.”

Anders gave a dry huff of laughter at that, drawing the attention of the others in the room. “With that sort of logic, I'm surprised you expected to find me at all. Keep Justice in line? You of all people should know that if it had come down to that, the only cure would have been killing me. Was that all this was a way to kill me without getting the blood on your own hands?” 

“Anders!” It was Isabela who recovered first, her voice a soft admonishment. “You shouldn't say things like that, not about Hawke-”

Anders' skin flickered with cracks of blue at that, a humorless smile on his face. “Oh, of course not. It's not fair to make bitter accusations toward someone who planned to pawn me off on someone else, after promising me forever. Who then left with you, Isabella, and left me with Fenris. As if I didn't know what you two had been before? What she'd had with both of you? Why on earth could I be upset at the fact she expected a 'violent elf and abused companion'? I clearly have no right to be upset, when you show up all over each other, and she still kisses me like she has a right to it, without the slightest apology for leaving me with someone she expected to kill me.”

“You-” Hawke sighed, an exasperated sound. “You blew up the chantry, and didn't tell me. At least Isabela never- well, other than the qunari thing, other than that she didn't-”

Hawke's words were stopped as Fenris stepped solidly between her and Anders, a snarl on his face. “Don't speak to my husband like that, Hawke. You've caused enough pain for one night, rubbing it in how you felt instigating a qunari invasion less of a crime than blowing up a chantry. As if anything that happened in that maker-forsaken city could be justified! Yes, we all ran, then. No Arishok to fight and stop the accusations for us then. But even I know it wasn't the explosion that pushed Meredith over the edge. You know it, too, that the red lyrium had poisoned her mind. No, it doesn't make what Anders did right, but I hardly think our little group has any basis for judging each other because of right and wrong.” 

He paused, taking a deep breath, feeling more than seeing the way his lyrium brands had activated. “You made me promise to keep him safe, before we knew about the chantry. I plan to keep that promise, even if the person I have to keep him safe from is you. You left him without a single word of promise, Hawke, and you wonder why he might be upset to see you again, with someone else where he thought he'd be.”

“And what, you've bonded over how terrible of a person I am?”

“No.” Fenris shook his head, his glow diminishing as he turned away from Hawke. “At the start, we bonded over how much we loved you.”

Hawke's breath caught, a hitch in her voice speaking of tears he didn't turn to see. “Fenris, after all that time? I thought-”

He cut off her words, raising his hand to show the band of teal now replacing the band of red he used to wear. “No. Not after all this time, not anymore.”

“I-I think it's time to go,” Isabela spoke softly, moving to Hawke's side. “We're staying at The Pearl, for at least a week. If you stop by, maybe we can talk over drinks or something? Start over new, with how've-you-been's and isn't-it-nice-to-see-you's.” She gave Fenris' arm a slight tug when she finished. “Sound like a possibility?”

There was a moment, long enough for him to turn enough to see her eyes and the appologies there, along with hope. “A possibility. Not too many drinks, though. I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice.” Fenris knew his joke was flat, too much pain behind recent words, but he had to try. For Isabela, for Anders, and maybe even for Hawke.

\- - -

The women were gone before Anders found his voice again, before he could do anything other than stare at Fenris. The shock was wearing away, though, enough for him to step forward, to reach for Fenris' hands. “You- you do realize you called me your husband just now, right? Because I did, and, well, as far as names you could call me, it's a fair sight better than abomination or mage. And- is it too soon to say I think I don't want to lose that? I mean, she just-” He found himself faltering, the silence he was met with enough to make him look up from where their hands were entwined. “Fenris?”

He was met with the sight of the elf blushing a deep red, a flush that went clear to the tips of his pointed ears. “I-I called you my husband, in front of-” Fenris swallowed hard, eyes wide as he met the golden eyes of the mage. “And you don't mind?”

Anders gave a breathless laugh, “I don't mind, I just, it makes me wonder. If you still call me your husband, then- this scarf?” He let go of Fenris' hand to trace the edge of the teal fabric wrapped around his wrist, almost expecting the warrior to pull away.

Fenris didn't move, though, simply stood there, flushed, looking down at where pale fingers were so deliberately touching him. “It reminded me of the coat you used to wear, before.”

“Fenris.” Anders couldn't keep his voice even, wavering with something he wasn't sure should be named. “You mean-” His eyes widened as he stared at the flushed cheeks of the man in front of him. “Last month, when I said you'd found someone else, you meant me. And then- and then you went and got me an expensive gift to apologize, instead of explaining, why?”

That got a soft laugh from Fenris, his smile bittersweet as he met Anders' searching gaze. “You were in love with Hawke.”

“You expected me to go with her when she came back.” Anders swallowed around the lump growing in his throat. “After all this, you expected to be left behind without a second thought.” There were tears in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks.

Fenris brought a hand to Anders' cheek, giving him a gentle caress. “If I let myself hope, I thought I would spend another three years heartbroken, instead of pining. I thought maybe that would be easier.”

“Fenris-” Anders leaned in to the touch, the tears finally falling. “Please, Fenris, let me- I want-”

There was a moment of stillness between them. A moment where understanding passed between them through their locked gaze. “Of course, my husband.” The words were barely audible, just enough to make Anders' breath catch before Fenris' lips met his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Written because a lovely friend on tumblr wanted fake married and mentioned loving mutual pining. 
> 
> With any luck, this delivered. ^-^
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
